


Where the Train Tracks Meet

by AlwaysATexasGirl



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up, F/M, I'll add more tags later I have to go..., Meet Again, Strangers, Young Adults, train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8819569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysATexasGirl/pseuds/AlwaysATexasGirl
Summary: Her life was finally on the right track. The boutique would be opening in a month. She had her first home in a cozy downtown studio in the same arrondesment as her parent’s bakery. Advertisements for her designs were all over one of the biggest fashion capitals of the world. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was finally going places.His life was an ongoing train wreck, that’s why he was running away. No plans, no idea where to, just running. Adrien Agreste, son of the world famous fashion mogul, running straight into his lady’s arms in a Parisian train station.





	

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had spent the wee hours of her morning racing around, stuffing the various items scattered across her hotel floor into her suitcase.

The weekend in Milan had been fun, but now, on the train ride home, she wanted nothing but to be in her warm bed.

She imagined crawling under warm, cozy covers, curling herself into a ball as the pink walls of her childhood bedroom caved over her. But she wasn’t going to her parent’s small, sweet smelling bakery. She was going to her brand new studio apartment.

Marinette sighed as images of the weekend’s events replayed in her mind. She’d been to a small, upcoming designers’ convention in the northern Italian city. And with a spontaneous sightseeing tour, the late night parties, and a purse full of contact cards that had been practically thrown at her, she had a lot to think about.

The young woman sat with her once warm coffee placed on a fold out table by the window and her feet propped up on the seat across from her.  
Being a new face in the bursting fashion industry wasn’t easy.

Marinette leaned back, turning her attention to the scenery beside the tracks. She watched the rolling hills turn to mountains and the rushing rivers as they molded into clear, blue lakes. The alpine region of France spread out beside her, light greens dappled with rocks and richer dark green trees formed right outside of her window and Marinette smiled.

She loved France. She loved her cities. She loved her architecture, and her language, her landscapes, her wine, her culture…

Marinette wouldn’t ever be able to understand why so many of her friends would want to leave their beloved home. Many of her former classmates had moved overseas to study or take a year abroad. Nino Lahiffe had spent two years on tour as a DJ. Alya Cesiré, Marinette’s best friend, was going to spend the next year traveling all over the world without her.

Alya was even getting paid to write about tourist destinations around the world, and though the redhead was much more interested in reporting about action packed events like sports or bank robberies, no young adult could turn down an opportunity to get paid for traveling. Except Marinette of course. She was happy where she was. The only thing she wasn’t happy about was, was that she always was being left behind.

And if there was a phobia for being left behind, Marinette had it.

The last time she’d been left behind by two of her most trusted, there’d been no warnings and no goodbyes.

Adrien Agreste had spent eight months in public school. Then, the City That Never Sleeps took the Parisian boy and his father in with open arms, and neither returned to Europe, even if it were just for a visit.

Marinette didn’t know all what had happened, she knew that the Gabriel brand had moved to New York, that Adrien was no longer modeling, and that he was alive, but never contacted any of his friends from the college.

There weren’t many pictures of him either, and when Alya did find a rare candid of the Agreste heir, he was in sunglasses, Gabriel clothes, and wore big scarves that hid his jaw line. Sometimes, they weren’t even sure if it was him. But Marinette liked to think it was.

When Marinette’s mind drifted away from her teenage obsession and to whatever she was drawing right next to her newest design, the amusement in her eyes vanished.

Black cats were jumping, racing, dancing all around her dress and she turned the page in a hasty, immediate movement.

There had been no goodbyes, no more shared late night patrols, no more flirtatious puns or badly timed questions about her identity. The black cat too had left her without a word.

Marinette, clad in red and black at the time, had bawled her eyes out, and while the crying was mostly due to the fact that the apparent love of her life moved 5834 kilometers away, she’d ended up missing Chat Noir more than the model in the long run.

The cat had disappeared around the time the akuma attacks had stopped. Actually, Ladybug hadn’t fought once against Hawk Moth’s victims without her at-the-time loyal partner.

Ladybug. Coccinelle. Her brand. Her boutique.

Marinette’s train of thought quickly switched subjects and her smile returned.

Her boutique, her very own boutique would be opening in a little over a month. She’d started an online shop years ago, her label spreading like wildfire amongst fashionistas and hipsters; now, her fame was really kicking in.

And yet a ridiculous smile would still creep onto her lips whenever she’d see someone wearing her own designs. She often wondered how the big designers must feel. Averting her gaze from the window and towards her sketchbook, she couldn’t help the warm feeling in her chest as she stared at her most recent sketch. She’d spent Saturday taking another crash course in Fashion design. She’d met more upcoming designers and ran with opportunity to spread word about her boutique…

The TVG jolted to an abrupt stop in Chambéry.

Marinette tore her legs off of the seat across from hers and straightened her skirt. The doors slid open and hooded man jumped into the train with nothing but a rucksack. The woman turned back to her sketchbook, taking notice that the man had settled into the chair across from her. Marinette closed the sketchbook in her lap and packed it back into her purse, her gaze returning to the window.

But her focus left the alpine landscape and wandered over to the reflection of the man across from her. The hood partially hid the blonde hair that grazed eerily familiar green eyes. He looked about her age, should be in his early to mid-twenties. Shaved, sharp jaw line, and did she mention that he had beautiful eyes?

Marinette knew she shouldn’t be staring, but she only was looking at his reflection in the window. Surly he’d just think she was taking in the Rheine River or the faint, blueish Alps in the background.

The circled “G” in the middle of the man’s sweatshirt told her it was a piece from Gabriel’s, but Marinette knew it was an older model; the brand didn’t sell hoodies anymore and the black wasn’t as dark as it would’ve been if the jacket were new. Green met blue in the window’s reflection.

The man had caught her staring. Marinette turned to face him, her cheeks bursting into various shades of red.

The man just nodded, and then looked out of the window himself.

Neither of them got up until the end stop in Paris, and it had been a long, awkward ride home. Marinette had stolen glances at the handsome man across from her, and there were times when she’d felt his gaze rest upon her. When she looked at him, his pensive stare quickly changed to a frightened gaze that flits away. Not a word was exchanged throughout the train ride. When they stood up and started gathering their things, Marinette looked once last time at the man across from her. He flashed her a smile and then grabbed his coat off of a hook near the window. Marinette sent him a sheepish, toothy grin, and then grabbed her purse before scuttling out of the train.

She didn’t know if it was the emerald green eyes or his heart warming smile that speed up her heartbeat, but either way, she had to force herself to think of something else. The boutique. Ayla. Her parents.

She was never going to see him again.

Besides, she had had enough blonde haired and green-eyed boys in her life. What was she thinking? It had been a mere stranger in the train. It wasn’t like he had sat across from her because he’d noticed her –the train had been absolutely full. Or well… most seats were taken… Of course he chose the first best spot he could find. And they hadn’t even talked!

 _Oh non_ , Tikki was right. Marinette had a type.

Why was it only green eyes that made her heart race?

Quickly adjusting her purse on her shoulder, Marinette quickened her own pace, hoping to get as far away from the hooded stranger as possible.

It had been years ago since he had disappeared. She was now twenty-three years old. Eight years. It had been eight years since she was soaring through the Paris skyline with her best friend by her side. Eight years since-

“Wait! Miss, wait!” American English rang through the station. It wasn’t directed towards her. Then the voice switched to perfect, Parisian French, “ _Attendez, Mademoiselle!_ ” The voice was close.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder and froze.

The voice had been calling _her_.

Slowly, she turned around to face the same stranger she’d sat across from in the train. Her heart stopped.

The hood of his sweatshirt had fallen down, revealing the rest of his shaggy, blond hair. His breath was quick and uneven from the run. –He’d been running after her!- And in his hands he held a closed black umbrella. Oh.

“I think this is yours- I mean, you left this, on the seat beside you. So, uh, here.” The man flashed her a quick, breath-taking smile before avoiding her gaze. She took the umbrella out of his hands, the feeling of a ring grazed her finger and she quickly let go. “O-oh. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smirked, and then noticed that his hood had fallen. The young man quickly pulled it back up, hiding the rest of his golden hair. He sent a few nervous glances at those around him, but it nobody but him cared about the fact that he was there.

“Well, I guess I should be going now.” Marinette said, faintly laughing. The umbrella, the green eyes, and the overall strange sense of familiarity of the situation were beginning to make her feel nauseous. She didn’t want to be rude but knew she couldn’t stay any longer. “Thank you very much, this old thing actually means a lot to me.” She held up the umbrella again and gave another breathy laugh. Awkward.

The man nodded, the smile not leaving his lips.

“ _Au rev_ -“ She froze when she felt a hand touch her shoulder again. The man let go immediately, his eyes widening at his own gesture.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry! I didn’t-” His hand went up to his forehead, okay, he hadn’t thought that through. He looked as embarrassed as she did. “It’s just, you reminded me of someone…” The nervous way he reacted would have made Marinette laugh if she hadn’t been so concentrated on the familiarity of it all herself. “Have we met before?”

Marinette felt blood rush into her cheeks.

She took in his features once more, the shaggy, blond fringe that peaked out from underneath his black hood, the way those golden strands of hair partially covered those emerald eyes, the way his ring felt as she’d taken the umbrella out of his hands…

The name came out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and if this weren’t the man she thought he was, she’d be in big trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> While I do have an ending planned for this, who knows when or how I'm actua;;y going to finish it. Hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter though. Guess who the stranger is? :)


End file.
